


Breaking Ground

by Morgana



Series: Seeds of Desire [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all about patience and a willingness to wait for the harvest</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Ground

They were having breakfast in a little diner just outside Lewiston when everything changed. It was an ordinary morning, just like a thousand other ordinary mornings, where Dean flipped through the newspaper in between bites of his pancakes and bacon, and Sam checked email over his oatmeal and fresh fruit, so Dean was completely unprepared when Sam said casually, "I've been thinking about making you beg me to fuck you."  
  
Dean's head snapped up instantly. The unmistakable sound of paper tearing drew stares from a couple of the tables around them, particularly since it was immediately followed by a hacking cough as Dean choked on his food. He waved off the waitress' offer of water and downed half his coffee in two gulps before he cleared his throat and asked, "What'd you just say?"  
  
Sam blinked at him. "Just that I've been thinking about making a stop at the bookstore before we headed out of here. Why, did you wanna leave right away?"  
  
He stared at him, wondering if Sam was pulling his chain or if he was just going crazy. "Uh, no. No, I'm good. Anytime you wanna hit the road is fine with me, so long as you don't spend the whole morning in there." Dean waited to see if Sam was going to say anything else weird, but he just nodded and popped a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth.  
  
They finished breakfast and paid up, and Dean wondered if the crackling tension that seemed to wind through the silence was his imagination. Sam didn't seem to notice any problems (or at least, none that he commented on), although he lingered a little longer than usual over his glass of orange juice. Or maybe it just seemed that way to Dean, who found himself breathing a sigh of relief when Sam tossed his backpack in the Impala and headed down the street to the bookstore, leaving Dean to go in search of the local car wash. Maybe a few hours tending to his baby would clear his head and make him stop hearing things.  
  
After almost three hours, Dean was almost ready to go look for the bookstore and drag his brother out by his hair when his phone rang. He checked the display to make sure it was Sam, then flipped the phone open and snarked, "About time you got done in there."  
  
Instead of pained sigh or aggravated huff he expected, Sam replied, "I just thought you might wanna know that I was picturing you begging to suck me off, and it got me hard, right in the middle of the store."  
  
" _What?!?_ "  
  
This time he got a very pained sigh. "I said I just thought you might wanna know that I found a copy of Lawton's  _Archetypes of Aboulia_ , so I bought it. I'll be ready to go when I get back, okay?"  
  
"Uh... sure." Dean hung up and went into the bathroom to thoroughly clean out his ears, doing his best to ignore the way he'd hardened in a dizzying rush at the thought of having to beg to suck his brother off.  
  
Sam was grinning from ear to ear when he made it back to the room. He brandished a thick, dust-streaked book at his brother and opened his mouth to start what Dean was sure would be a hugely long-winded geeky speech, but Dean held a hand up to stop him before he could get going. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Big book with lots of big words. Can we go now?"  
  
He didn't wait for an answer, just grabbed both their duffel bags and headed out to the car. By the time he had their gear stowed, Sam was in the passenger seat leafing through his new book. Dean slid behind the wheel, started the car, and cranked Blue Oyster Cult as he pulled out of the parking lot, ignoring the affronted, "Dean!" from Sam.  
  
Without a case to work on, they headed south and just drove. Dean didn't really have a specific destination in mind, although he figured Denver was as good a place as any unless something came up someplace else. They probably could've just found a motel room and waited for a call, but Dean had always been more comfortable on the road and Sam didn't seem to care where he was as long as he had internet access and a frou-frou coffee shop that sold sissy girlie drinks nearby. Luckily, Starbucks seemed bent on world domination, so Sam got his fix more often than he didn't.  
  
Somewhere around Billings, Dean started looking for a place to stop for the night. The Paradisio seemed like as good a place as any, and Sam's disgusted groan at the sight of the parrots that were plastered all over their room was a great bonus. Dean ordered a pizza while Sam unloaded the car, and if he got extra cheese, bacon, and pepperoni, and forgot the broccoli and other healthy junk, well, that was just too bad.  
  
He lost the coin toss for the shower, but for once, Sam didn't gloat about it. Dean was kicking back with the remote, hoping that he might be able to catch a rerun of  _Dr Sexy MD_ , when Sam paused at the bathroom door. "Hey, Dean?"  
  
He didn't bother to look away from the TV. "Yeah, what?"  
  
"When I think about you needing it that bad, needing me to fuck you so much that you just have to beg for it, I can't keep my hands off myself. I have to find a bathroom and get off, right then."  
  
The remote fell out of his suddenly nerveless fingers, landing on the bed with a thud, but Dean didn't notice, his full attention riveted to the bathroom door as it closed with a quiet click. Had Sammy really just said that he wanted - and with  _him -_?!? He could hear the shower hiss as it started up and instantly his imagination supplied him with a picture of Sam stepping into it, of water streaming down over his body. If he'd really said what Dean thought he'd said, then did that mean he was...?  
  
Dean bit his lip to hold back the moan that rose up into his throat when he thought about exactly what Sam might be doing in that shower. His hand slid down into his lap, over his fly and the hard length of his dick that pressed against it, kneading and squeezing briefly before he realized what he was doing and yanked his hand back like he'd been burned. Lusting after his brother was nothing new; he'd wanted Sam for years, since the first time he'd looked over at the sleeping sixteen-year-old in the passenger seat and really  _seen_  the hot honey of a man lurking just beneath the gangly teenager. But Dean had promised to take care of him, not jump his bones, so he'd kept his hands to himself and Sam never knew that his brother had been perving on him for years. Or at least, that's what he'd thought.  
  
But now that Sam was talking about wanting him to beg... Dean shifted, sneaking his hand back down to quickly readjust himself, silently cursing his brother for taking so long in the bathroom. He wondered if Sam was in there jerking off, if he was stroking himself, slick and hard and wet in the shower... Christ, he had to get out of here! Rolling off the bed, Dean grabbed his jacket and all but ran for the door and the safety of his car.  
  
Half an hour later, when he was reasonably sure he could manage to be in the same room as Sam without either grabbing him and kissing him senseless or demanding to know what kind of game he was playing, Dean headed back to the motel room. "Went for a beer run," he said, forestalling Sam's question, holding up the six-pack he was carrying with a grin. "Want one?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure." Sam caught the can when Dean tossed it to him, and Dean did his best not to watch Sam's throat move as he cracked it open and took a drink. "You know, if you'd waited for me we could've just hit one of the bars around here."  
  
Dean shrugged. "Figured it was cheaper to just get a six-pack. Besides, this way I don't have to carry your drunk ass back to the room when you get wasted on two or three beers."  
  
"Shut up. I'm usually the one carrying you out and you know it." Dean smirked and saluted Sam with his can, then took a long drink of his own.  
  
They spent the rest of the night trading banter back and forth while they worked their way through the rest of the beer, and for once Sam didn't bitch about Dean's choice of toppings when the pizza arrived. He did give Dean an odd look when he reached for the TV remote instead of cleaning his guns after dinner, but didn't say anything, just pulled his laptop out and started clacking away on the keyboard like usual. It wasn't until after the evening news that Sam shut the computer down, stood up and stretched, then commented idly, "By the way... I'm pretty sure that if you  _did_  beg me to fuck you, after I've wanted it for years, I wouldn't be able to help myself. I'd probably come on the spot, without you having to do a thing."  
  
"Wh - what'd you say?"  
  
Sam gave him a strange look and repeated, slowly and distinctly, "I  _said_ , I'm pretty sure that if we get an early start in the morning, we can make Denver by tomorrow night. That is where we're headed, right?"  
  
Dean was too stunned to do anything more than nod and try to ignore the way his whole body had gone instantly hot and hard. He could only sit and watch Sam clear his bed off, muttering about Dean needing to get his hearing checked, and he wasn't sure he disagreed. Either that, or he was seriously starting to think he'd had a stroke at some point, because there was just no way this was normal. Normal people didn't look at their brothers and think about sucking their cocks or imagine the slick glide of skin over skin as they fucked each other into the mattress.  
  
Of course, he mused, as he stripped down to his underwear and slid into bed, normal had never exactly been part of the Winchester way of life...


End file.
